


Variety

by hostilecrayon



Category: Gundam Wing/AC
Genre: Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-10 17:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilecrayon/pseuds/hostilecrayon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a contest at MM. These were the guidelines:</p>
    </blockquote>





	Variety

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a contest at MM. These were the guidelines:

Written for a contest at MM. These were the guidelines:

**Action Autumn Oneshot Mini Fiction Contest!**

**"Something Happened On The Way To The Market..."**   
**Ordinary Events That Become Something Extraordinary**

_"Ever have something happen to you that changed your life?  
A fight .. an argument ... a fortuitous happenstance?  
Good versus evil? Bad versus worse? What do you fight for?  
What do you have to gain?"_  
by Sueric

Oneshots may be fanfictions or originals but **must** meet the following guidelines:

All fics **must** be 'ACTION'-oriented  
All fics **must** adhere to the "Something Happened on the Way to the Market" set theme.  
All fics **must** include the three following elements:

1\. Coffee  
2\. Foreign Currency in the Protagonist's Pocket  
3\. A Broken Chair

* * *

**Variety**

It was the sweet smell of Vanilla Crepes with a touch of warm syrup mingling with the rich scent of Vanilla Macadamia Nut coffee that pulled me from my slumber. Well, it was more of a state of unconsciousness, but you get the idea. The coffee was particularly enticing to my throbbing head, and as I pulled a pair of faded jeans over my equally discolored boxer shorts, I made a pact with myself to never drink again, for the 5th time this month, and, blurry-eyed, padded my way to the kitchen.

I stretched languidly before taking my usual place at the table. "Heero, pass me a cup of Joe," I yawned at him.

"This is not 'a cup of Joe'," he chided, setting a large mug in front of me. My cold fingers wrapped around it in haste, reveling in the heat it provided.

"Yeah yeah, it's 'Gourmet Flavored Coffee'." I rolled my eyes. "You know, for a guy who's perfectly content eating dirt and drinking his own urine to survive on the battlefield, you're damn picky. You have a specific coffee for each day of the week, for crying out loud."

Heero did that full body twitch he does; his version of a shrug. "I like variety."

"Variety? I call it 'anal', myself. Variety is pushing the mystery button on the soda machine and chancing the watered down lemonade in the hopes of getting something good. You have no idea what you're going to get, so you never form any habits."

He set a plate of steaming hot breakfast in front of me before sitting down in the rickety, wobbly chair across from me and quirked an eyebrow. "That's called 'random', Duo."

"Spontaneity is the very heart of variety." I quipped, bringing my cup to my mouth.

Where I promptly set my mouth on fire. "Ow, fuck! Why the hell didn't you tell me it was hot?"

The bastard actually smirked at me. "It was a spur of the moment decision."

I stretched my foot across the underside of the table, found the irreparably loose support beam for his chair, and pressed down - hard. I grinned the size of Texas as the old chair came tumbling down, taking Heero with it. "So was that."

He extracted himself from the floor with as much grace as he could muster and proceeded to eat the remainder of his breakfast standing up. "It's your turn to do the shopping."

"What? We're out of food already?" I stared at him incredulously. We had only took up residence in that particular safe-house three days prior, and Heero had immediately stocked the shelves with more than we could have even thought about using in the short two week time period. It's a real shame if you ask me, to waste food like that. At least Heero usually let me donate the leftover food to whatever orphanage was nearby.

"Of course not. I got a message from Dr. J today. There have been some changes to the mission. We'll be needing extra battery packs, water bottles, Solidox, a bag of sugar, and some candle wicks."

I raised an eyebrow in interest. "Romping around in the dark with makeshift bombs?"

"Pretty much. We'll infiltrate in two days' time, but I want to be ready, just in case our-"

"'Position is compromised.' Yeah yeah yeah. I'm going." I threw on a shirt and a pair of shoes and stalked to the door. "Maybe I'll spice things up a bit while I'm gone. You know, add a little variety to my life." I winked, disappearing through the door before he got the chance to respond.

* * *

I got about six blocks before something caught my eye. I was only three blocks from Market Square when I saw a man asking for donations on a street corner. I wasn't worried too much about time, and Heero was well aware of my habitual 'side quests' when he sends me into town, so I figured it couldn't hurt to stop and see what his cause was.

As I approached, my eyes were assaulted with a large billboard with pictures of a very beautiful, and very bald, little girl. I was mesmerized for a moment. There was a picture of her on a tricycle, gripping the handle bars like it was life support. There was a picture of her smiling widely, clinging to a beat up teddy bear. There was a family picture, quite obviously newer than the other two, in which the man asking for donations was holding the girl, her big blue eyes black rimmed and her face thin and pale. His cause was written underneath the last photo:

'Angela Jennings, Age 5. She has had cancer since the fragile age of 2. Her hospital bills have become too much to handle, and the doctors refuse to treat her unless we, her family, can pay off her outstanding debt. She has not been receiving treatment for the past year, and her situation has become unbearably worse. We fear for her life. Please, find it in your heart to help Angela.'

I've always held a weakness for children, and this was no different. My heart went out to the poor girl and her family, and if there was anything I could do to help, I would. I approached the dark haired, green-eyed man and gave him a sympathetic smile. "What would be the most convenient for you? I've got Earth Sphere Credits, Japanese Yen and American Dollars." I fished my wallet out of my pocket and thumbed through the large assortment of bills.

"Why do you carry so many different currencies, sir? We're in America. they don't take Credits or Yen here." His voice was surprisingly sharp, though his eyes showed caution and weariness.

I just shrugged. "I do a lot of traveling."

His eyes traveled the length of my body, stopping briefly at my braid. "Aren't you that kid they put up for public execution?"

"Nah, but I get that a lot. Apparently, I've got a twin out there somewhere wrecking all kinds of havoc." I laughed airily for him. For a man who needed money to save his child, he was just a little too interested in who I was.

He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. "That is quite the coincidence." His eyes didn't meet mine again, but instead came to rest on the pictures of his daughter. "Earth Sphere Credits would be best, but any currency will do. My family and I live on the colonies."

I looked down at my wallet and started to pull out every last Credit I had. The only warning I got was the slight sound of the air shifting as he placed his fist firmly into my chest. I tumbled backwards, my wallet falling to the ground with a dull thud.

"Sorry kid, but there's a reward out for your capture, dead or alive. It would pay for all of her bills and get her treated right away." He really did look regretful, but his shoulders we squared and his eyes narrowed.

I bounced back up to my feet, and I could already feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins; Shinigami's cue to come out and play. "So you're with Oz." I spat.

"If you come quietly, I won't hurt you."

"I think you have it backwards. If you let me go in peace, I won't kill you." I took up an offensive stance, my right hand straying to the knife strapped onto my left forearm underneath my shirt.

The man heaved a great sigh, emotions playing across his face. Regret, exasperation, and weariness flitted behind his green eyes before they finally turned to determination. "Very well, you leave me no choice." He produced a knife much like my own from his boot, and the fight began.

I lunged forward, arcing my blade widely where his stomach was moments before. He was fast, damn fast, and that's saying a lot. I'm easily the fastest of the Gundam Pilots, so his quick and efficient movement made Shinigami smile. Maybe this wouldn't be such a boring fight after all.

He was to my left, and I ducked as his leg came high, passing right through where my head had once been with alarming force. I thrust my knife forward, cutting a small bit of fabric as he leapt backwards. I rose back to my full height and rushed him, my left leg coming up in a high, sweeping kick. He blocked it with a flick of his forearm, and I moved in with my knife arm, aiming for the throat. His other forearm met mine in defiance. I threw a left hook, catching him on his jaw. He used his forearms to push me forward as he stepped back a little; his fingers ghosting over the already darkening bruise on his jaw.

"You've got a hell of a left hook, kid." He grinned at me, and Shinigami grinned back.

"You giving up on me, old man?"

"I wish I could, kid, I really do. I'll do whatever I can to save my daughter, even if I have to risk my life. You could solve all my problems. It's worth the risk to me. If you ever have children, you'll understand." His eyes closed for just a second, and when he opened them again, sadness rushed through them. "But I suppose if I succeed, you won't."

"You won't capture me easily. You are not the only one who loves. I may not have children, but there is someone I have to live for. I live to help and protect this person, even if they don't know how I feel. I can't allow myself to be captured or killed. So let's fight in the name of love. We will fight to see who's love is stronger: that of a father, or that of a wayward Gundam Pilot who has nothing but this one sided love."

"Alright. Let us fight with honor."

"What's your name?"

He blinked. "It's Jordan."

"Alright Jordan. I'm Duo. Now that we know each other's names, we can fight with honor."

He nodded once and we both raised our fists in warning, a knife clutched in each of our right hands. Then the fighting began anew.

I began with a series of kicks and swipes with my knife hand, all of which he blocked with a seasoned grace that let me know that he was no fresh recruit. He managed to counter a few of my attacks, but he could only manage glancing blows. We were drawing quite the crowd, and when I stepped back for a moment, I could tell his eyes were shifting worriedly between me and them.

I decided that 'in the middle of the street' was not the best place to do this. I turned and ran with lightning speed to the alleyway between the two buildings on the corner, scrambling up the side ladder that lead up to the rooftops. Jordan was hot on my heels, though he wasn't trying to attack my fleeing back. He probably could have caught me square between the shoulders with a well timed throw of his knife, and I knew then that he really did mean to fight me honorably.

It was discomforting to know that this Oz soldier was showing me such respect. We were enemies by occupation alone. This wasn't a fight of good verses evil or even a fight that had to do with the war. It was purely a coincidence that we ran into each other; a fight because of being 'in the wrong place at the wrong time'.

I moved towards the back of the roof, well away from the prying eyes in the streets below. This fight couldn't go on much longer. Someone below was bound to have called the local authorities, and that was the last thing I needed; to have to beat up a bunch of cops, too.

I returned the respect he showed me and waited until he showed he was fully ready before launching my next attack. I approached him slowly, my fists tucked close in to my body, preparing for his blow. His knife came out and a met it with my blade, a small clanging sound ringing out as metal and metal collided. I brought my left arm up to jab at his face and he stumbled slightly to the side. There were no words left to say this time, so I didn't hesitate to press forward, kicking him squarely in the chest.

He tumbled backwards, much like I did from his first blow, and i was on him in an instant with the intent of finishing this quickly and as cleanly as possible. I clutched my dagger firmly and pressed downward, hoping to pierce his heart so this honorable man wouldn't suffer, but he surprised me, kicking up into my stomach and sending me flying back towards the edge.

I recovered quickly, flipping back onto my feet. Jordan was already up and moving, running at me at an alarming pace. I realized with a start what he was trying to do. He wanted to send me flying off the roof in the hopes that I would be injured enough that he could take me captive.

I ran diagonally to the center the the roof, and when I turned to face my attacker, I was tackled, my knife flying from my grasp and toppling over the edge. Jordan raised his knife hand, preparing to bring it down on me. I did the only thing I could think of. I gripped his big shoulders, whipped my head forward and gave him the best head butt I could muster.

Blood trickled down from his forehead, dripping onto my cheeks. I rolled him off me and cautiously got to my knees, squinting my eyes in pain as I fought to shake the stars from my eyes brought on my my own attack. I never even saw it coming, much less had time to evade it.

Cold steel ripped through my stomach, successfully leaving a large wound weeping blood onto my pants. The much too familiar feeling of cold came over me, a shock laced sweat breaking out over my body. Jordan was staring from me to his crimson stained knife and back, his face clearly showing his unrest. He did not want me to die. Luckily enough for him, I am a Gundam Pilot. I am quite familiar with these sorts of wounds, and it would take a lot more than just one cut to kill me. Unluckily for him, I also fight well in shock.

He didn't expect the foot I planted in his face, and the surprised registered in his eyes as I stood with ease, blood flowing freely down the legs of my pants, and kicked him soundly in his side. The knife fell from his fingertips, and I nudged it over the edge.

He was up again, and we came together in a frenzy of fists and feet. I may work well while in shock, but shock doesn't last forever, and with as fast as I was losing blood, It was likely that I would pass out if I didn't finish things right then and there. We both landed several blows, but we stayed together, neither of us able to afford any more slowing down. One more stumble for me meant I probably wouldn't get back up, and one stumble for him would send him tumbling over the edge.

He landed a few blows on my face, and I hit him hard in the chest. We were both panting wildly, my desperation and his determination flaring with each attack.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, but was really only mere seconds, I saw my opening. He moved in to hit me low, and I brought my hand down hard, cleanly cracking his forearm. He cried out in pain, but I didn't give him time to recover as I grabbed his wrist, twisting it ruthlessly, and Shinigami cheered silently within me as his wrist shattered under my grasp.

I put my foot into his stomach, taking the breath from his lungs. Then I pushed him. His eyes went wide when he realized that I was utilizing the tactic he had wanted to use on me, and he grabbed desperately for the side, but with a broken wrist, he couldn't hold on.

I watched over the side as he fell. It took an eternity for him to reach the ground, his eyes displaying both fear and respect as the locked onto mine. His eyes never left mine as he fell, and they only closed one he made contact with the ground below, his back and then his head bouncing disturbingly off the cold concrete.

I made my way down to him, intent on killing the man if he was somehow still alive. I knew I couldn't let him live, regardless of the honor he had shown me. If he knew our location, it wouldn't be long until we were surrounded by Oz soldiers, and Heero and I would be powerless to escape. No, this man had no future the moment he recognized me.

I bent over him to check his pulse. It was beating faintly, but his eyes remained closed. I ignored the people surrounding us as I retrieved both of our fallen knives and my wallet. I wiped his knife off and replaced it in his boot sheath. It was his, and I would allow him to die with it secured. It was the least I could do. I would not steal from this respectful man.

"It was a good fight, Jordan." I said to the unconscious man. "But I told you, I can't allow myself to die. I have someone to protect. You jeopardized that protection the moment you realized who I was. I can't allow you to live. I'm truly sorry."

"I know." His voice was gruff and quiet, and I jumped a little at the sound of it.

"You're awake?"

"Yes, and I won't fight my fate. I challenged you, and you fought well. Honor dictates that you be allowed to take my life." He coughed. "I never would have expected such a little guy could be so skilled." He smiled gently at me for a moment. When his eyes opened, his expression turned grave. "It's not right that someone so young should hold such a heavy burden. I am not only sorry for my loss, but also for your future." He closed his eyes, and a slight smile touched his lips once more. "Go ahead, son. I'm prepared to meet my end."

I took a deep breath, looking up and around at the place that this soldier with such heart would meet his end by my hand. My eyes locked on the billboard of pictures before returning to the defeated man before me.

I pulled out my wallet and emptied the contents into the donation bowl. "Don't come looking for me, okay?"

"Thank you," was all he said as I turned and walked away.

* * *

My mind was still swimming with the thoughts of the fight as I walked in the door to our safe-house. Suddenly, the war didn't seem like such a concrete thing anymore. I had always thought in terms of good versus evil and right versus wrong. It appeared to be something different entirely, now. How many Jordan's had I killed based on circumstance? How many more would I kill because of our differences in occupation?

Heero didn't look up from his laptop as he asked, "Did you get everything?"

"Actually, no. You're going to have to go get the stuff later."

"What do you mean you didn't get it?" He sounded annoyed.

"I'll explain it later. And Heero?"

"What?" He barked.

"Remind me never to advocate variety ever again. I think I'll do things in a nice, routine fashion, starting tomorrow. But for now, I'm going to sleep."

Heero finally looked up at me, his irritated eyes softening quickly as I started to fall from the edges of consciousness.

"Duo!" I closed my eyes. Everything was alright; Heero would take care of me. I could continue to protect the one I love.

Then I passed out.


End file.
